


Motion

by thepsychicclam



Category: Torchwood
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-03
Updated: 2011-08-03
Packaged: 2017-10-22 04:10:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/233603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thepsychicclam/pseuds/thepsychicclam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes one small motion leads to the inevitable. Written with <span><a href="http://onesentence.livejournal.com/profile"><img/></a><a href="http://onesentence.livejournal.com/"><b>onesentence</b></a></span> prompts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Motion

_Motion_  
The rise and fall of Jack’s chest kept Ianto up for hours while Jack slept peacefully, sweat drying and body relaxing; Ianto tried to sleep, but he wanted to memorize every part of Jack in case this was the only time he was this lucky.

 _Cool_  
Ianto almost spilled coffee on Jack when Jack spoke to him in the conference room the next morning, like they hadn’t woken up naked and sticky together; Jack didn’t even notice, just grabbed the mug and kept on briefing the team.

 _Young_  
“I’m too young for you,” Ianto told him one night, “about a zillion years too young,” as Jack laid his head back on the pillow and laughed, “since I’m in my twenties and you’re – “ but Ianto didn’t finish because Jack shoved him off the bed, then followed him to the floor and kissed him.

 _Last_  
The last person Ianto loved turned out to be a homicidal robo-killer, and now Jack – not that he loved him, of course – could never die; sometimes he really wished he could go and talk to a bloody shrink.

 _Wrong_  
Jack wasn’t supposed to want Ianto; he should want Gwen or the hot blonde barista on the corner or, fuck, even Owen, but definitely not the plain, awkward, witty coffee boy.

 _Gentle_  
Fingertips trailed along his skin, inside the wrist, past the elbow, over the shoulder, behind the ear; a solid body slid above his own, skin sticking and sliding; soft lips kissed slowly, devoid of urgency, just exploration and discovery.

 _One_  
One bullet, one second, one moment – Ianto yelled, Gwen and Owen continued to shoot like Jack had not just died, and Ianto finally started shooting again and emptied a clip into an already dead alien; that night, before he went to Jack, he went into the bathroom and vomited – every time Jack died felt like the first time again.

 _Thousand_  
Ianto lay awake watching Jack, streetlight filtering in through the thin curtains, wondering how many more times he’d have to watch Jack die, in what ways it would happen, and if even a thousand years would be enough for Ianto to get used to it and feel like he’d had enough time with him.

 _King_  
“They wanted me to be their king,” Jack said, but Ianto glanced at him dubiously, “really, they did”; this time Ianto pushed him out of bed and onto the floor, and laughed at naked Jack sprawled on the floor looking affronted.

 _Learn_  
“I want to learn everything about you,” Ianto whispered against Jack’s ear, Jack thrusting in slow rhythm; Jack kissed him deeply and whispered “you’ll learn everything” against his lips.

 _Blur_  
The lines began to blur between lust and love as soon as it started to happen; Ianto tried to stop himself, because he knew where that path would lead, but he felt like his entire bloody life was a blur, and at least right now he had Jack.

 _Wait_  
Ianto thought Jack would never come back; everyday he expected him to come bursting through the door, all arrogance and smiling white teeth, laughing at the team’s worried expressions; and almost every night Ianto laid on Jack’s bed in the hub, inhaling Jack all around him, and falling asleep among the only remnants he had left.

 _Change_  
The first night after he returned, Ianto was hesitant and Jack patient; Ianto undressed him slowly, exploring every part of him, checking him almost like a specimen, while Jack whispered, “I’m still the same,” but after Doctors and John Hart and fuck knows what else, Ianto wondered if anything would ever be the same again.

 _Command_  
Somewhere between breaking into databases, running after aliens, and shooting at bad guys, Ianto had time to realize how incredibly sexy Jack was leading the team; but then again, maybe it was just the coat.

 _Hold_  
“Don’t go to sleep just yet,” Ianto said, looking embarrassedly away from Jack’s gaze; Ianto would never tell Jack everything going through his head – demons of death and rebirth and murder and destruction – “I just want to lay here with you for awhile,” and Jack wrapped his arms around Ianto and just held him.

 _Need_  
Ianto gripped the sheets in his fist, hand right beside Jack’s, his body meeting each of Jack’s thrusts roughly, the sound of skin against skin permeating the silent room, Jack’s teeth grazing between Ianto’s shoulder blades, Ianto muffling a cry against the sheets.

 _Vision_  
“A vision to be treasured,” Jack shouted as Ianto came out of the shower, toweling his hair as water rolled off his skin and onto the carpet; Jack jumped up and crossed the room in one stride, crushing his body and mouth against Ianto, heedless of the water dampening his work clothes.

 _Attention_  
“Just lay back,” Jack said, voice husky, “tonight’s it’s all about you,” his head disappearing between Ianto’s thighs; Ianto’s hips jerked up with an audible gasp as Jack covered his cock with his mouth.

 _Soul_  
“You’re my soul,” Jack whispered into Ianto’s ear one night; he thought Ianto was sleeping, and Ianto curled closer into him and kissed the underside of his jaw.

 _Picture_  
“Is this an old girlfriend?” Ianto asked holding up a picture, and Jack slowly nodded, a faraway look in his eyes, and then Ianto asked, “will this be me one day?” and Jack didn’t answer.

 _Fool_  
“You’re a bloody fool,” Owen told him one night, “a bloody damned fool,” and when Ianto asked him why, Owen sneered and said, “do you really think he’ll stay with you?” and Ianto wanted to shoot him again because Ianto knew he was probably right.

 _Mad_  
“You’re all bloody mad,” Ianto said, looking around the conference table at the team, “and I’m the only one who’s sane,” because the new plan was surely going to get them all killed, but Jack said, “you’re here, aren’t you?” and gave him a gun, and Ianto realized he must be as crazy as they were.

 _Child_  
When Ianto was younger, he never thought he’d amount to much, thanks to his father (the sorry bastard) and a habit of thievery, but he figured he might have done well by himself, now that he was more than a coffee boy for Torchwood – though he still always got the bloody coffee.

 _Now_  
Now that he’d been on a few dates with Jack, he wasn’t quite sure what to make of them, and the longer they were together, the harder it was for Ianto to wrap his head around everything.

 _Shadow_  
Handcuffs forgotten on the floor, tie still haphazardly around Ianto’s neck, paint smeared across Jack’s torso, and the shadows playing across both their bodies, casting Ianto’s pale skin in stark contrast to Jack’s.

 _Goodbye_  
“But I have to go,” Ianto said, trying to get out of bed and pry himself from Jack’s embrace, “and you have to be at work also, _sir,_ ” and Jack slapped his bare ass saying, “I’m the boss; I can be as late as I want,” and pulled Ianto back down, pinning his arms to the bed, “and I give you permission to be late today.”

 _Hide_  
Ianto tried at first to hide whatever they were to the team – because he was used to hiding things – but after Jack had treated it flippantly and nobody cared (not even Owen), Ianto found himself gushing at the most inopportune moments and having to stop himself before he said too much (which he often did).

 _Fortune_  
“I bet you’re rich,” Ianto said suddenly one night, “I mean, you’ve been alive for like ever, and somehow you haven’t developed a habit of fast cars, designer suits – which I really don’t understand, Jack; an expensive suit is better than sex,” but Jack shot him a glance, and Ianto amended, “okay, almost better than sex, but I’m serious, you must be richer than the queen…or JK Rowling!” and Jack just rolled his eyes and laughed.

 _Safe_  
“I can’t keep you safe,” Ianto whispered against Jack’s arm, “I’ve seen you die so many times, and each time I want to protect you and I can’t,” but Jack kissed his neck and said, “I should be keeping you safe,” and then added, “don’t worry about me” but they both knew Ianto could never do that.

 _Ghost_  
Jack’s mouth trailed down Ianto’s chest, each touch of his mouth leaving the ghost of an impression behind, making Ianto feel like Jack’s mouth was at his navel and everywhere else at once.

 _Book_  
Jack sat at his desk reading, shoulders tense from hours poring over books and documents trying to figure out the case, so Ianto sat a cup of coffee on the desk in front of him, kissed the side of his head softly, and left without a word.

 _Eye_  
Ianto thought that as long as Jack had lived, his eyes would seem ancient, wise, faraway, beyond, but every time Ianto looked into Jack’s blue eyes, they seemed as clear as they should be.

 _Never_  
Ianto sometimes wished this would never end – Torchwood, the cases, Jack, Gwen, Owen, and Tosh, but he knew he was foolish to ever believe that this could all last; he had seen enough in his life to know that things never last forever.

 _Sing_  
“I didn’t know Jack could sing,” Gwen leaned over and said to Ianto, Owen, and Tosh while Jack was on stage singing karaoke, “he’s quite good,” she added, but Ianto laughed and said, “you should hear him in the shower.”

 _Sudden_  
Ianto was about to leave the Hub when Jack grabbed him, threw him back against the wall – knocking the breath out of him - and started kissing him roughly, hands pulling out his shirttail before shoving them inside his trousers.

 _Stop_  
Jack was sprawled out on his desk, Ianto on top as Jack thrust upward, Ianto’s thighs gripping Jack’s hips, hands curling into Jack’s chest for balance, Jack’s hand wrapped and sliding around Ianto’s cock, Ianto hoping this would last forever.

 _Time_  
“Where’s my stopwatch?” Ianto cried frantically, searching all over the tourist office, throwing stuff everywhere looking for it, “I can’t believe I fucking lost it,” as Jack leaned against the doorframe, slowly unbuttoning his shirt and said, “why don’t you come and find it?”

 _Wash_  
“Nothing but a glorified do-boy,” Owen said as Ianto brought in Jack’s coat from the drycleaners, and Ianto just ignored him, because he realized he liked taking care of Jack.

 _Torn_  
“I don’t think that can be tailored,” Ianto said as he looked down at his torn trousers, “and I really liked those trousers,” but Jack just kept yanking Ianto’s trousers down as he dropped to his knees.

 _History_  
Ianto sometimes wondered if he’d be a significant part of Jack’s history, someone Jack would remember a hundred, a thousand years from now, a photo kept close by, or just a name added to a long list of dead lovers.

 _Power_  
Ianto gripped the pole with both hands, the silk tie securely connecting his wrists, Jack’s nails digging into the soft flesh of his hip, each thrust pressing him uncomfortably on the pole and wall, Jack’s breath blowing in uneven gasps against the back of his sweaty neck.

 _Bother_  
Ianto poked Jack, who was still sleeping soundly, mouth slightly open, but he didn’t move; Ianto then poked him repeatedly, while Jack rolled over and grunted in dismay and Ianto stifled a laugh.

 _God_  
“You’ve seen just about everything,” Ianto said, “so in everything that you’ve seen, do you think there is one universal entity that controls everything, taking into account all the different planets and species and – “ Ianto stopped when Jack put a hand over his mouth and said, “Ianto, just shut up and kiss me.”

 _Wall_  
Ianto’s back was against the shower wall, legs wrapped around Jack’s hips, Jack’s fingers digging securely into his hips, each of Jack’s thrust sliding him further along the wet wall, and Ianto wondered how he nor Jack slipped and fell, but after awhile he didn’t care anymore.

 _Naked_  
Ianto thought it was odd that Jack unabashedly walked around his flat naked, not bothering to put on clothes to grab food or watch tv; Ianto had always been incredibly modest, until he met Jack, that is.

 _Drive_  
Sometimes Jack and Ianto just liked to get in the car and drive; Ianto liked to roll the windows down and drive through the country, wind blowing through his hair, Jack in the driver’s seat beside him, listening alternately to mix CDs of their favorite songs; Ianto never knew until then how many songs had been out before 1950.

 _Harm_  
“I don’t care who harms me,” Jack told him one night, “it doesn’t bother me, but I would slaughter anyone who harmed a hair on your head,” and Ianto knew it was true, because it was rare that he ever saw that look come into Jack’s eyes.

 _Precious_  
“Are you feeding strays?” Jack said, catching Ianto spooning cat food into an empty pan, “you know that if you feed Precious here,” he said, pointing at the embroidered collar, “she’ll never leave; I kept feeding strays and eventually had to make them into my team.”

 _Hunger_  
There was a hunger inside of him, a need, to feel Jack every day, beside him, inside him, around him, next to him; and Ianto knew that no matter how long he lived, there would be nobody but Jack Harkness.

 _Believe_  
When Jack whispered, “I love you,” into Ianto’s ear, Ianto was so surprised he couldn’t speak; he had never thought Jack would actually come out and say it; Jack must have loved dozens of people in the past, and just maybe, Ianto thought, there was one for each lifetime, and this one was him.


End file.
